


Cooking with Hannibal

by DARoxers



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cooking Lessons, I forgot this one, M/M, my bad guys, posted on tumblr I think, really old, this is old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 09:14:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1463866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DARoxers/pseuds/DARoxers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal decides to teach Will how to cook. It doesn't end well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cooking with Hannibal

The way Hannibal cooks is like watching him making love to his food. He's gentle and careful, and it's incredibly sexual in a hard to explain way. The way William cooks is more like a baby deer trying to walk. There's going to be a lot of mess, lot of tripping, probably some bruises, and more than likely Will is going to wind up glaring over at Hannibal and having him help him. And really it's Hannibal's fault. Really, William was fine not knowing how to cook. He was perfectly content that way. 

Hannibal though had insisted that he needed to learn. Insisted on teaching him how to cook a proper meal as he put it. So, here they are. Will is trying to cut up vegetables, while Hannibal works on cutting up the meat, and Will is one hundred percent certain Hannibal is trying to seduce him.

Well, A hundred might be a bit...strong. Eighty percent at least. Will is trying, really trying not to watch Hannibal, but every time he starts to cut into the cucumber he glances up to see if he's doing it right, hoping Hannibal will look over and say "oh yes, that's the right way." And instead he sees Hannibal staring down at his work, sleeves rolled up, hair slightly in his face, and hands massaging and tenderizing the meat. Whatever the heck it is. And Will's sure Hannibal told him what it was. He's asked him three times. But, something about those forearms just makes his mind go blank and god, he's never going to finish these vegetables.

"Will, are you done with the cucumber?" Hannibal asks suddenly making Will realize he is staring at his ridiculously attractive psychiatrist. "I'm just about finish with the meat, so once you're finished, we'll start sautéing."

"I'm having trouble with holding the knife." He lies fumbling to try and look like he’s been trying. “I mean it’s coming along, but I’m only half done with the,” He pauses forgetting what the damn thing is called when Hannibal looks up. “Uh, the, uh, The vegetables.” He finishes lamely. Hannibal smiles warmly though, seeming to think it funny, but Will can’t hardly stand it. Can hardly stay standing at the sight of that smile.

“Shall I come help you, once I finish?” Hannibal offers casually a glint in his eyes. Will nods mutely and goes back to slicing deciding, he is not going to look up again until this cucumber is finished. The slices are thin, though, so he tries making them a bit thicker, and then they’re too thick, perhaps, he’s done to the end of it glaring at all the ridiculously mismatched slices and prays that Hannibal can somehow make this look good. 

“William, none of these are the same size.” Hannibal states, suddenly behind him, invading his personal space and looking over his shoulder. “If you were having this much trouble you could have simply asked.” Hannibal chides gently, as he pulls over a carrot and sets it in front of Will on the cutting board. “Here, let me show you.” He says and then he’s touching Will, guiding his hands and helping him slice the carrot.

And it’s all coming out evenly, all the slices are beautiful uniform slices, and Will’s cuts are perfect, but sadly Will’s mind has vacated the building, because apparently the tops of his hands are the off switch for his brain. Hannibal has his arms around him, sort of. His head is right next to Will’s and he can smell Hannibal’s after shave, and god, it’s so much nicer than his, and Hannibal is pressed up along William’s back and he just wants to lean back and inhale and enjoy. But then suddenly Hannibal pulls away.

“Now, you try.” Hannibal instructs as he steps back. William hates his lessons.

He hates cooking. He hates vegetables. Hell, he hates Hannibal, right now, he’s so angry at himself. God, he was not some swooning damsel/man thing falling into Hannibal’s arms, and yet here he was. About to seriously collapse from weak knees in Hannibal’s kitchen, from cutting a carrot.   
William really did try. But by the end half the vegetables were all cut diagonally, which was wrong, and the pieces were all different sizes and Hannibal finally pushed him aside and diced them to make them look a bit more uniform. Will wound up sitting on the other side of the counter, watching. 

And god, he really did try to learn from watching. Tried to focus on how he held the knife and the motion it made as he cut, he tried to pay attention. He really, really did. But really have any of you seen Hannibal’s hands? Because Will has and they are incredibly distracting. Will watched him slice for what felt like hours, but what was really only a few minutes, and by the time Hannibal was done, William was tempted to claim they needed more.

“Alright, so clearly you are not meant for slicing.” Hannibal teased as he scooped the vegetables into a bowl. “That’s alright, sautéing is simple and easy to do. No one can mess that up.”

Except someone can. They really can. Because Hannibal has an art to his cooking. A skill and passion that Will truly lacks. So, by the third time of Hannibal having to come over and keep Will from stirring the vegetables for the thousandth time in under a minute, Hannibal takes Will once again in his arms and helps him gently toss the vegetables up. Carefully, he guides Will through the art of stirring without a spoon. And soon Will is pliant and limp, and hell he really is about to swoon. Hannibal doesn’t pull back though.

By the time the finish, a meal that started out to be high class and fanciful as everything else Hannibal makes, winds up being a stir fry with no rice with absolutely no presentation (shocking we know, but even Hannibal couldn’t pretty it up by the end) and winds up on paper plates and taken into the living room, because Will is truly ashamed of his meal and doesn’t think it’s worth real plates (especially not Hannibal’s nice ones) or worthy of Hannibal’s table. 

Hannibal simply indulges him though. Let’s Will drag him away from his dining room and into his living room and he sits on the floor with Will, even takes off his jacket while Will eats and waits patiently for him to finish his plate.

“So, it turned out ok?” William asks as he eats, wanting to make sure that it’s at least edible, because yeah he’s eating it, but that doesn’t mean it’s good.

“It’s delicious, William. While it may not be something I would normally fix, I think it’s very well made, and very worthy of my table.” Hannibal comforts still smiling fondly. “But William, there is one thing I’d like to ask.”  
“Ask away.”

“Would you like to try again with more guidance the next time?”

Will’s really not sure he should say yes. In fact he’s sure he should say no. He is in fact going to turn him down. “How about I try to make desert?”

Will really thinks it’s a bad idea when Hannibal’s smile grows.


End file.
